


Post-Post-Modern Family

by Evil_Squirrel



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: (solved at sonic speed tho), Biology - VERY Freeform, Children, Cute, Family Issues, HP Epilogue - Parody, Implied Cannibalism, M/M, Past Authunity, blue man bad, i didn't really think when writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28069002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Squirrel/pseuds/Evil_Squirrel
Summary: Transhumanist helps Posadist and Commie with the kids. He witnesses... things.
Relationships: Communist/Posadist (Centricide)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	Post-Post-Modern Family

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be way edgier than it turned out.

Transhumanist walked right to the end of the street where he saw three people standing. As he got closer, one of the figures noticed him and soon, all of them were waving at him. Transhumanist quickened his pace which intensified the splashing sound of his shoes meeting a mix of mud and snow.

Posadist and his new family, which was much taller than him, were standing outside of a small gate to the gray house at the edge of the city. Compared to the house neighboring it, this one appeared small and as if it wanted to sink further to the ground, unlike the entrance to the secret bunker nearby which stood out too much to be an actual secret. 

“I’m glad you came to visit us! We haven’t seen each other in ages!” Posadist was squeezing Commie’s hand and something about it stung Trashumanist’s stomach. 

“Will you tell me what the last phone call was about?”

“The one about suddenly having to build a terrarium?” Posadist’s smile widened. “That’s why we invited you over. Get inside, you will have to sit down for this.”

Nazbol sneaked closer to him as they walked into the house. “I don’t know either, dude, but if it’s what I think it is.... Then I’m scared.”

“And what do you think?” Posadist’s antenna moved and Transhumanist immediately knew he heard them, but he didn’t seem bothered by their whispers. 

“He’s going to start a cockroach farm or… you know what, I can’t say it out loud.” 

Their house seemed inside even smaller than on the outside. It might be perhaps due to the lack of sunlight or because there was basically no place left bare. Old photos and vintage weapons covered the walls, nearly every corner was occupied by a plant and the shelves were stuffed with strange stones and books. 

Their living room offered the most space so far. Warm-colored tapestries covered the walls and an old yellow poster on the door instructed them what to do in a case of a nuclear disaster. Transhumanist sat down on the couch, secretly checking for cockroaches, but there were none. Nazbol sat next to him, but the pair stood, even though the couch was big enough for all of them.

Posadist took a deep breath. “You know… we have to tell you something…” He started shaking. “I wasn’t this nervous since the end of the Cold War.” 

“Me too, dear,” Commie laughed. He squeezed Posadist’s hand while Nazbol quietly protested. “Let’s do it together!”

Posadist started. “We…”

“Are…”

“Going to have more children!” Both of them said, hugging each other. Nazbol turned into stone. 

It was the most beautiful thing Transhumanist has ever heard.

It was the most terrifying thing Transhumanist has ever heard. 

One question echoed in Transhumanist’s head and it was a question he didn’t want to hear the answer for. How?

“You’re going to be a big brother Nazbol! Aren’t you excited?” Commie looked at Nazbol with shiny eyes.

Transhumanist could hear Nazbol’s whisper of disagreement, but his mouth curled into a smile. “That’s great.” 

“The thing is…” Posadist started talking and Transhumanist could immediately guess that he would ask him for something, “we don’t know how many of them will survive the cannibalistic phase, but it will still probably be quite a lot. Can we ask you to come from time to time and help us a bit? And be their uncle or whatever you humans call that? I know I should’ve asked you sooner...”

“Beep boop sure,” Transhumanist said, nodding. “But did you just say something about a cannibalistic phase?”

Now it was Posadist’s turn to nod. “Yes. After hatching, our children can only consume their siblings or a parent. In some families, one of the adults sacrifices themselves so more of them survive. That period doesn’t last long though, it’s a week max.”

Transhumanist stared at his tinfoil-covered arms and tried to comprehend everything he just heard. He wasn’t sure what was worse - the content or the casual tone of Posadist’s voice. 

Commie chimed in. “Also, please, don’t tell Ancom. Que will help us with the kids too.”

“Yeah,” Posadist smiled. “Unlike you two, Ancom isn’t used to my… quirky self. Anyway, you want to see the eggs?”

Transhumanist nodded and Nazbol did too, but far less enthusiastically. Immediately, they all stood up and moved through the house to the place where the eggs were kept. Transhumanist’s predictions came true when they walked down the stairs into the bunker entrance inside the house.

Commie opened the door. They didn’t even have to turn the lights on because the eggs were emitting orange-meets-red light which slightly illuminated the surroundings. 

“They are a bit bigger than normal because… you know…” Posadist said, awkwardly laughing. “The genetic mix is a mess. I hope there won’t be too many problems with that.” He ventured further into the bunker. “Anyway, I have to check on them now.”

Commie gestured to Transhumanist to go back, so he did. A shaking hand squeezed his shoulder. “You know, we might not say it out loud, but we’re really nervous.”

“Sure.”

Commie’s lips were barely moving. “You know I was so nervous I ate everything in the fridge and Posadist bit a postman last week.”

“Understandable.” Transhumanist already knew this was going to be just as interesting as his other adventures with Posadist.

* * *

After some time, during which Posadist visited him only in dreams while caterpillars resembling him were dining on him as he feasted on postman Pat, Transhumanist finally received a call from his friend. From what he learned, ten of them survived. It was about time to give them names and Posadist wanted him to name two of them. 

Just when Nazbol was opening the gate, somebody hugged Transhumanist from behind and started shouting into his ear.

“Hi, I’m Ancom! You’re Transhumanist, right? It’s so exciting that we can help raise Commie’s children, isn’t it? Look,” que waved a paper in front of Transhumanist’s face in such a manner that he couldn’t make out what was written on it, “this is my list of gender neutral names for the children, just as they requested! I can’t believe Commie’s actually having kids…”

Nazbol’s face soured. “Get in, I’m not going to stand here all day.” 

“Hey, are you good?” Transhumanist asked while Ancom stormed the house.

“Apart from the fact that my only friend is now my step-father, one of my fathers yelled at me the last time I visited him that he’s going to disown me and the other one can’t shut up about some cannibalistic babies, I’m fine.” 

“Beep boop, you can always message me, you know,” Transhumanist said. “I’m terminally online so I will probably get your message.” 

They got inside and into the living room again where Posadist and Commie already waited with their new ten kids. Transhumanist knew they were a lot smaller than human babies, but he wasn’t prepared for how small they actually were. Ten little fragile balls of baby fat. Most of them shone in two different shades of red, except for one that was glowing more yellow-ish, but not in the same way as librights. Posadist’s eye glow seemed to be a dominant trait as even the three kids who had eyes more similar to Commie’s, had yellow glowing retinas. Some of them had ushankas and Transhumanist wasn’t sure if they were an actual genetic trait or if Commie started making small hats for his kids. 

They divided the kids into duos and each person received a duo. They all sat with the kids on their laps on the ground, Posadist, Commie, Nazbol, Transhumanist and Ancom. Transhumanist received the smallest kid of the bunch whom he could fit into his palm.

“I’m so glad you came here to help us,” Posadist said. “I hope that the kids are going to be satisfied with the names we give them. At least more than I was with mine. If you want to name them after someone, it’s fine. If you want to name them after something, it’s fine too if it’s important to you. We wouldn’t ask you to name them if we had any doubts about your choices.”

He took one of the kids on his lap into his arms and raised them. Coincidentally, it was the yellow one. Transhumanist found it impossible to stare at them for more than a few seconds, but he still noticed their yawning. “You’re so shiny, I’m naming you Uranium-235!”

Commie looked at the two kids trying to roll off his lap, caught them before they got away and rested them properly. “Lenin One and Lenin Two,” he pointed at the kids.

“Lenin One and Lenin Two will create an unjustified hierarchy!” Ancom protested, waving arms as if que was trying to fly away.

Commie sighed. “I was never good with names. So,” he pointed at the one looking more like him, “you’re going to be Lenin. But what about you? You know, the logical choice is Marx, but what about comrade Stalin? I’m not sure after whom I should name them.” 

“Why not both?” Posadist smiled. 

Commie lightened up. “I name you Marxlin then!” 

The circle then proceeded with naming the remaining kids. Transhumanist picked for his two names he generated himself: UZTREOER and Đ&€ 98. They might have a strange sound, but they were for sure unique. 

***

The kids grew up enough that not even Đ&€ 98 fitted into Transhumanist’s palm anymore and now they were roughly the size of infants. Their fragility hasn’t withered away yet, but now they were also feral to the point they couldn’t be left alone for the slightest moment. Marxlin was the first one to start talking with Shae following them. Even though all the kids had teeth since they hatched, they all started with baby talk. 

Transhumanist was playing with the kids, trying to keep them from harming themselves, anyone else or their surroundings. It was so fascinating how someone in one of their most vulnerable periods of life could be so drawn to self destruction. 

Ancom was telling a story to the kids, wildly gesticulating. The kids were clapping and laughing. It reminded Transhumanist of his attempts to teach a robot to tell stories. No matter how hard Transhumanist worked, the robot never came up with something coherent. 

As he was caught in his thoughts, he felt sharp pain in his finger. He snapped from the chaos of his unfortunately still very human brain and looked at what happened. Lenin stared at him with their human yet glowing eyes while they were trying to chew on his thumb. Transhumanist shook them off, shuddering.

“Aw!” Posadist moved on all fours towards them. “Look! Lenin tasted human flesh for the first time!” 

“Do you have a disinfectant?” Transhumanist hissed, cupping his hurt finger. Posadist looked at him as if he called his baby a slur, but nodded.

They left Ancom to be the sole handler of the horde and went to prevent a potential infection which could interfere with Transhumanist’s robot arms plans. Posadist was unusually quiet, not really looking at him. Transhumanist’s inside felt empty as he tried to come up with something to cheer his friend. Somehow, his brain tripped over a memory in its corner. “Hey, you know how we watched the videos with ants getting microwaved and joked about it?”

“Ah that?” Posadist lightened up and Transhumanist couldn’t really hide the wave of relief that engulfed him. “You thought I was joking?” He pushed him with a smile. “ I hope you don’t doubt my microwave-jumping abilities.”

“Micwowaves?” Both of them looked down and found Marxlin crawling on all fours to Posadist and then latching onto his pant leg. 

“Micwowaves, chiwd,” Posadist nodded. “Do you want to weawn mowe about them? Hewe uncwe Twanshumanist couwd teww you something intewesting about them.” 

Marxlin sprinted on all fours towards Transhumanist’s leg and attempted to crawl it. “Tawk! Micwowaves! Ants!”

Transhumanist took the child into his arms which turned out to be not as great of an idea because he had to keep them from eating tinfoil. “Beep boop, microwaves heat your food. We talked about ants because they can survive in the microwave. Don’t listen to dad, they’re not jumping anything.”

Marxlin stared blankly at Transhumanist before they started yelling at the cardboard box which obscured Transhumanist’s face.“Micwowaves! I want micwowaves! Now!”

“Beep boop, you will get microwaves. Just wait, I will show you. But now, uncle has hurt finger and must get something on it.” 

Marxlin kicked him. “Micwowaves! Now!”

“Aw, Mawxwin, don’t be me mean to youw uncwe, he’s huwting,” Posadist said in an overtly-exaggerated sad tone. He grabbed a first-aid kit on the door of Commie’s office. “And hewe we go. Disinfection and even band-aids, if you want.”

Transhumanist thanked Posadist for help, got his finger fixed and then returned with Marxlin to the other children.

“Beep boop, who wants to know more about microwaves?” 

***

His phone rang and he was almost afraid to pick it up. 

“This is the third time this week I have had to pull Uranium out of the microwave!” Commie raised his voice with every word. “What the hell did you tell them about it that they’re so excited when they try to cook themselves?”

“I told them not to do that, I swear!” Transhumanist waved his hands at the phone.

“Anyway, come over.” 

Transhumanist ran up the hill to them, sweat streaming down his back. Posadist was nowhere to be seen, but Commie was waiting for him outside and he looked like he was about to punish him. 

“Beep boop, beep boop, I-” Transhumanist gesticulated, trying to regain his breath.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done!” Nazbol ran out, fuming. “I’m not doing anything else than keeping them apart!”

“You just left them alone!” Commie cried out, digging nails into his ushanka. Nazbol looked at him and with sudden realization, he turned and ran into the house. Commie and Transhumanist followed him, with Transhumanist being slightly behind. They barely stepped into the house and Transhumanist immediately heard the voices filling the corridor.

“Micwowaves! Micwowaves! Micwowaves!” It sounded more like a demon chant than a bunch of children. Transhumanist feared what he was about to see and it turned out his feelings weren’t irrational. 

Eight children were sitting on the floor, staring at the microwave, waving fists in the air and demanding the sacrifice of comrade Uranium-235 who was currently dragged out by Nazbol against their will. Shae already climbed the scene disruptor and clumsily attempted to shove their sibling back into the microwave. They were both digging their teeth into Nazbol’s forearms, as their older sibling winced.

“Stop! You will kill him, idiot!” Nazbol yelled and tried to shove Shae without making them fall.

Shae sniveled and lowered their antennae.“Idiot?” 

“Yes. Either you are an idiot or a murderer,” Nazbol said, keeping Uranium-235 away from the buttons they were desperately reaching.

“Muwdewew! Muwdewew!” Shae started punching Nazbol but they were quickly put on the floor to the rest of their siblings which meant they didn’t have access to his face anymore. Instead, they bawled which made all the other children cry too. Some of them clung to Commie and Transhumanist. 

“Daddy, he’s mean!”

“Can we micwowave him, pwease?”

“Be grateful, you brats,” Nazbol said, avoiding the group as much as he could. 

Commie stepped into his way. “Don’t talk like that to your siblings!” 

“Siblings?” Nazbol looked surprised. “Now you say they’re my siblings? Honestly, most of the time I feel like I’m their third parent! Everything fucking revolves around them and whenever I need something, one of them bites me and you pick another one from the microwave!”

“Guys, what’s happening? I went shopping for five minutes and...” Posadist was standing in the hallway, holding two bags. 

Nazbol took a few deep breaths before he spoke again. “I want to talk with you.” He pointed his chin at Commie. “And with you too, Pos.” 

Posadist nodded. “Transhumanist, could you take care of the little ones meanwhile?”

Transhumanist agreed to it, but getting the group out of the kitchen was a nearly impossible task as they really wanted to know whether they could microwave their brother or not. When he thought he finally managed to bring all of them to the living room, he found out two children were missing. Uranium-235 was there even though they were still crying. 

It occurred to him one of the missing children was Đ&€ 98 which was strange as they usually didn’t make a step without their siblings. The other one was Shae. Transhumanist just prayed they weren’t attempting to murder yet another one of their siblings. 

He sighed. There was no way he could leave the eight children alone and he couldn’t just not search for the two. “Beep boop, you want to play?”

“Pway!” the kids agreed.

“Beep boop good. I will look for your siblings and you will try not to move. I know of your every movement so I will know if you cheat. Who remains a statue for the longest time, wins.” He dashed out of the living room and nearly tripped over Shae.

“There you go,” he lifted them up, “you’re going to return.” 

After he carried them to their siblings, Shae started talking. “Nazbow micwowave.”

“Stop lying, that’s not nice,” Transhumanist said. “They’re not microwaving your brother. He has some problems so they talk to him.”

Suddenly, he heard sobbing. He turned around and saw Đ&€ 98 crawling into the room and crying.

“What happened to you?”

“Bwothew huwty.” Transhumanist froze before he turned to count the children. With the last newcomer, all of them should be in the room. That meant he must be talking about Nazbol. 

“Calm down, he’s not gonna get put in a microwave,” Transhumanist said, patting the child. 

Somebody walked away from the kitchen, but he quickly returned back. The kids all tried to crawl to find out what happened, but Transhumanist stepped in their way. 

“Bwothew tawk ow. Bowthew huwty.” The child was pointing their finger in the direction of kitchen. 

Somehow, Shae managed to crawl out of the living room without Transhumanist noticing until he saw them disappearing. He walked quickly out of the room, surprised at Shae’s speed. They got back to the kitchen door sooner than he expected.

Transhumanist tried not to make any noise as he scooped Shae again, hoping no one noticed their shiny child behind the door. He could hear some hissing sounds from the inside. It appeared Nazbol was getting his injuries treated.

Shae stopped giggling. “Bwothew weawwy huwty,” they whispered as Transhumanist carried them away. “Bwothew sad. Bowthew not wike Shae anymowe.” 

“Did you hear him say that?” Transhumanist asked after they returned and he put Shae on the carpet. Shae shook their head.

“You think he dislikes you?” Shae nodded. Transhumanist sat down and hugged them. “I’m sure he likes you, but you have to be careful with your teeth. It’s so sharp! I got bitten by Lenin and it really hurt. Also, maybe don’t put your siblings into the microwave.” 

“I’m sowwy, it was pway…”

Just now, Transhumanist noticed that the kids attempted a mass exodus as he was trying to calm down their sibling. He sighed, shook his head and went to collect them. They were, yet again, all crawling to the kitchen door, some of them already spying on their family. 

“… you are!” Nazbol raised his voice yet Transhumanist felt as if he himself was listening with an ear on the door, even though he just tried to carry away the children as fast as possible.. 

Posadist’s unhappy laugh followed. “...the bar is six feet under.” 

“Why are you doing this?” he asked one of the children he carried back into the living room.

“Pway is bowing.” Transhumanist sighed yet again and returned for the last three children he couldn’t carry.

A stream of what he assumed was swearing in Russian made the last trio pay attention. Transhumanist could hear both Commie and Nazbol speaking, but it sounded more like they were swearing at something together than them yelling at each other.

After a while, Nazbol walked out with his parents right behind him. His right forearm was covered in colorful band-aids. 

“I’m sowwy you huwty,” Shae said, crawling on all fours to Nazbol. 

He bent over and gently patted their ushanka. “I’m fine.” 

“I don’t want you micwowave.”

“That’s the nicest thing you told me so far,” he chuckled. Shae got closer and blew on the blue and pink band-aids on his cheek.

“Anyway, we should talk too,” Commie said, staring at Transhumanist.

“If it’s about the microwaves thing, that was about as much my fault as his, if not more,” Posadist said quickly. “I should’ve noticed Marxlin sooner.” 

Commie nodded. “I hope everyone learned from this situation.”

Posadist touched Nazbol’s shoulder. “If you need something, tell me.” 

“Thanks, Po… ps.” 

***

Thankfully, the children dropped their microwaving business pretty quickly. They moved on the weapons on the walls though. Immediately, all the dangerous stuff in the house was hidden in the basement. 

Uranium-235 continued getting into various tight spaces which resulted in Nazbol jokingly getting him a cardboard box that turned out to be one of Uranium’s favorite gifts ever. Posadist said with tears in his eyes that Uranium is just like him when he was young, except that he was already building bombs. As it turned out, it wasn’t the wisest thing to say. Not because they would try to build a bomb, which they did try though, but because the kids were so proud of their dad they told everyone about his childhood genius after which he explained to multiple people that he was just joking.

All of this resulted in them being worried when they sent the kids to kindergarten, but it turned out to be fine. Given that Posadist stopped supporting their human-biting habits after the Lenin incident and Commie promised them that he would read them theory if they won’t traumatize too many of the other children in the kindergarten, they weren’t motivated to do anything others would classify as very weird behavior most of the time. 

Now they were returning from a walk, the sun setting behind them as the children ran around the adults who were discussing their future fates. 

“Look, we are going to put them in a school,” Commie said, carrying Efka on his back. “I know, I know,” he added when Ancom looked at him. “Look, I’m the first one to admit that a big part of the curriculum is propaganda, but the kids need to learn…”

“Why don’t you homeschool them?” Ancom asked. “You know we would help you with that.”

“Beep boop, you have enough children for a small class,” Transhumanist added.

“Because apart from learning stuff, school is also important for socializing. They need to interact with other kids.”

“Do we have to talk to others?” Uranium-235 kicked a stone on the road and watched as it flew over to the grass. “Kids are annoying.”

Ancom’s eyebrows arched. “You know you are a kid too, right?”

“But I’m not annoying!”

“Did something happen? Are the kids mean to you?” 

Uranium-235 sighed. “No. They are not mean. They are just stupid. They talk about stupid stuff.”

“I know what you mean.” Commie gently patted Uranium-235’s shoulder. “When I was a child, I was ahead of my class-”

“Beep boop, we can always talk about stuff!” Transhumanist waved his arms. “Do you want to build a robot or something?”

“My legs hurt,” Đ&€ 98 complained and they climbed on Commie’s back, just as Efka did before. Coincidentally, they were already a few steps away from the house.

“You know,” Posadist said, opening the gate, “I just got reminded how I suggested…”

“Oh no,” Commie exhaled, but let him finish.

“... that some of you could take the rooms in the bunker when you are older so you have more space, but…”

“Bunker! Bunker!” All the children except Đ&€ 98 ran towards the entrance. “Please, let me in!”

Commie just shook his head. “Dear, how come you always slip up like that?”

***

It was yet again about time to walk them to the school. Posadist, Transhumanist and Nazbol went with them. Ancom promised them that after the school ends today, que will bring them to a place the anarchists were currently squatting at. 

“Dad, I’m scared.” One of the children stopped walking.

“Why?”

“I have to present my school project today. What if the teacher gets scared and calls the FBI?” A girl whose shade of red was more akin to Commie’s and who had two ponytails hugged Posadist, her bug eyes a bit glassy.

“No Regrets Oppenheimer, I named you after the scientist who made the weapon that will decide the class warfare and the attitude I wish he held towards that weapon. Don’t regret anything. Never try to hide your talents. It’s other people’s fault they immediately think that you are evil for that,” Posadist said. “And if the teacher says something mean, tell us and we will talk to her.”

“And who was Limonka?” another girl asked, with shiny curly hair that was nearly hiding her antennae.

“Limonka, you were named after a grenade. When I named you I hoped you would ask this just so I could tell you it was because I wanted to throw you far away,” Nazbol said. “But I don’t want to. Honestly, I never wanted to.” 

Limonka hugged Nazbol. “Could you throw away one boy from my class? He’s annoying.”

Transhumanist wasn’t sure if Limonka knew others heard her or if she was unaware how loud she whispered. He didn’t mind though. In the end, he was glad Posadist and Commie asked him to help with the kids.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
